You Don't Bring Me Flowers
by Miss.Mil
Summary: They're home. Now what?
1. You Used to Love Me

_So, I have been wanting to do an Endgame-centric fic for some time, and I decided to finally get off my butt and get writing. I have played a bit with the timing of a few things, and of course our favourite Admiral makes an appearance. Follows the canon storyline of season 7._

 _And here we go!_

* * *

 **Chapter 1:** **You Used to Love Me**

Chakotay shifted before the door to her quarters, fidgeting with his jacket and pulling lightly on his ear. He had never been so unsure about stepping over that threshold in his entire seven years on _Voyager._

Only this time, it's really _her_ on the other side of that door, and she knows more about him than even himself at this stage.

He had made a point in the last few days of avoiding the older Admiral Janeway.

The look he'd seen in her eyes continues to haunt him.

And it won't leave him alone.

Because it wasn't anger, or even sadness. It was the haunted look in her pale blue eyes without their sparkle that told him all he needed to know about their future. And it wasn't pretty.

But he had to know for sure.

The doors opened unexpectedly in front of him. He is so sure that the expression on his face showed his surprise to the Admiral sitting on the sofa just a few feet away.

Her expression is almost bemused, but lacks the spark he'd come to expect when the Captain had graced him with a crooked smile.

'I thought I'd put you out of your misery,' she spoke in cool tones.

He stepped over the threshold, and took a breath. He's been in her quarters many times, but this time the atmosphere is so different.

It's cold.

'You knew I was standing there?' he asked, fidgeting with his ear again.

The Admiral raised an eyebrow eerily reminiscent of a certain Vulcan.

'I spent twenty-three years living next door to you, Chakotay. I have this uncanny ability to know when you are standing outside my door,' she said without an air of humour. 'Although, I will admit that I am slightly out of practice.'

His heart twisted painfully as he looked at the older woman before him. 'Can I sit?' he asked, indicating to the vacant space opposite her.

She shrugged in response. 'Chakotay long ago claimed that chair as his own whenever he was in here.'

Chakotay had never felt this uneasy in the presence of _any_ Kathryn before. Temporal mechanics aside.

She flicked an invisible piece of lint from her trousers. 'Something on your mind?'

He cleared his throat, biting back the obvious answer.

The Admiral sensed his hesitation, and cut straight to the point. 'You want to know what happens between us.'

Her statement is blunt, and unassuming. It pierces the air in the room like a gunshot.

He isn't used to her being so forthright when it came to their personal feelings.

Hands twistied in his lap, he looked down to his boots. 'I need to know…if…' he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

She answered without hesitation, but her words lack the venom he is expecting. 'You want to know what happens, so you can determine if your current relationship with Seven is what you want.'

He looked up at her sharply. 'How do you know that?'

'You used to love me,' she stated simply.

'Used to?' he echoed.

She laughed, and the hollow sound penetrated deep into his soul. 'Of course. You're forgetting that everything in this timeline echoes my own. Up until this point.'

He stared back, his brow creasing.

'Chakotay, look,' she inched forward on the sofa, and he can see the way the starlight reflects off her greying hair. 'Things happened in my timeline that I'm not proud of. I'm here to fix it. I'm here to get this crew home.'

He nodded. 'I know that.'

She stiffened, sitting back abruptly. 'I am not here to change the way you see me, or to help you figure out your relationship with Seven of Nine. Those are choices you need to make for yourself.'

He ran a hand through his hair as the Admiral stood up, crossing the room in purposeful strides. Her hand rested on the bulkhead near the window; the same bulkhead he knew used to hold a picture of the two of them.

He wonders briefly what happened to it.

The Admiral sighed. 'I've missed _Voyager._ More than anyone ever knew _'_

Chakotay swallowed down his pounding heart. 'What happened to us, Kathryn?'

'Kathryn?' she repeated back at him, spinning around to face him. 'You haven't called me that in years.'

He merely raises an eyebrow.

She turned back to the window, her eyes tracing the stars without really seeing. 'You married Seven.'

The blunt statement echoes off the walls of the darkened quarters.

'That's it?' he asked sharply to cover up his own unease.

The Admiral whirled around abruptly. 'Have you spoken to my other self about this?' Her blue eyes are hard and unyielding in the starlight.

'No,' his statement was almost contrite. 'I don't want to hurt her.'

She gives a sarcastic snort in response. 'That's kind of you.'

He almost misses the glimpse of vulnerability that fades across her features.

'The Chakotay in your timeline is dead.'

A flicker of pain passed through her eyes. 'What makes you say that?'

'I have a fair idea,' he countered, tugging the sleeve of his jacket.

He doesn't need to mention that he can see it written plainly across her face each time she looks at him, or that he notices the small scars on areas of her body that his Kathryn didn't have. Scars that show where she's tried desperately to save herself from dying along with him.

The Admiral came to sit down opposite him again. 'Yes, he is. Chakotay died six weeks after we made it home.'

He stared at her.

She sighed.

The silence stretches on.

'You're not going to leave me be, are you?'

Chakotay shrugged, and leant back into his chair.

The Admiral picked up a tea from the table that he hadn't noticed before.

The colour tells him immediately it's one of his own special blends.

She takes a small sip. 'Three years from now, Seven of Nine is going to die. She makes it back to _Voyager_ , but we can't save her. You're with her until the end.'

Her slender fingers rub the area above her temple.

'Headache?' he asked softly.

She chuckled. 'This one is going to be the temporal headache of the century.'

He raised the corner of his mouth in a small smile.

He regarded her seriously for a moment. 'So, you have come back to save Seven?'

Her shoulders moved in a slight shrug. 'Yes, and no. By the time we get home, I lose twenty-two crew members. Tuvok is number twenty-three, and you make twenty-four.'

A candle flickers on the mantelpiece by her replicator, and he stared at it.

'I meant what I said,' she continued softly. 'I've come to bring _Voyager_ home. All of her.'

His eyes flicked over her face, analyzing her features. He used to think he was pretty good and knowing when Kathryn was lying, but the Admiral was damned near impossible.

He narrowed his eyes. 'What about us?'

She chuckled humourlessly. 'Us? Really Chakotay, you should know that there never was an us.'

'Because I marry Seven.'

'Yes.'

He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. 'I can't believe that.'

'Well, start,' she snapped back at him.

'And what about after she died?' he ground out. 'What happened then?'

'Nothing,' she answered simply.

'Nothing happened?'

'No,' she answered again before pausing. 'Yes.'

'What the hell does that mean?'

The Admiral sighed loudly, closing her eyes. 'You came to me when you needed me, Chakotay.'

'I _used_ you?' he asked with disbelief.

She looked at him squarely, dull blue eyes boring into his own. 'We used each other.'

The words echoed around his head, and he got up out of the chair to pace around the room. 'And that's it? How could I remain so,' he ran his hand over his face. 'So aloof from you?'

Her laugh was hollow. 'Sixteen years, Chakotay. And all we got out of it was fights, uncertainty and two unexpected children.'

'Children?' he turned to her with a puzzled look on his face.

She watched him closely before responding. 'Yes, but not in the way that you think.'

'I don't understand.'

She chewed the inside of her lip before answering him slowly. 'They weren't planned, but then again, none of what happened to use ever was. The first time it happened, neither of us knew until it was too late.'

'You lost it,' he stated simply.

She rubbed her temples again. 'There was an accident in engineering. We'd fought over it beforehand, we'd been running on triple shifts for days, and you didn't want me to be down there. It was a shock to us both. I didn't even know I was pregnant.'

He regarded her. 'How did that happen?'

She scoffed. 'Boosters that were non-existent. I haven't ever been on them. They give me terrible headaches,' she waved her hand dismissively. 'Of course, I didn't know you hadn't been up to date with yours either. It was surprising we didn't run into the problem earlier, actually.'

'I'm sorry,' he said sincerely.

'Don't be. I couldn't be sad over something I didn't know I had.'

'But it ruined us?' he asked.

'No, but you blamed me for it. It was six months before you spoke to me outside of the bridge, and another six before you came to my bed again.'

He reached out to take her hand, but she pulled back and turned away.

Instead, he sat down again. 'What about the second time?'

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. 'I knew earlier. I guess I learned to pay attention. We talked about it briefly, about whether I could Captain _Voyager_ and be a mother. In the end, the choice was made for us; the baby was gone after twelve weeks. We never found out why.'

The silence stretched out again between them.

'Don't make the mistakes we made, Chakotay.' Her eyes were guarded as she looked at him sternly. 'If you chose Seven, that's your business, but leave Kathryn alone. Don't go to her, don't contact her and don't force her to watch you two together.'

'And why would you ask me to do that?'

'Because you used to love me,' she answered sadly.


	2. You Used to Hate to Leave Me

**Chapter Two:** **You Used to Hate to Leave Me**

'I can't believe you gave up coffee.'

'Believe it or not, tea has its positives,' the Admiral said slowly, admiring the cup in her hand.

The Captain's quarters were shrouded in darkness, the light of the passing stars reflecting off the corners of the room.

'I can't believe that,' Janeway said with a smile.

The Admiral shrugged. 'Sometimes, you need a change.'

The younger Janeway stood quietly, observing the Admiral seated on the couch. They stared at each other, eyeing the differences between them; one with grey hair and scars that the younger redhead had yet to discover.

Her perfect grey hair eerily reflected the light of the passing stars. 'The tea is a small comfort,' she spoke quietly.

Janeway stiffened, regarding her with concern. The urge to ask the Admiral what the hell happened in her timeline was overwhelming, but she pursed her lips shut.

She already knew too much.

But she'd be damned if she was going to end up like the bitter woman before her.

Turning toward the viewport, the Captain broke the silence. 'Are you sure you want to do this?'

The Admiral gave her a sarcastic glance. 'No.'

The younger Janeway came to sit down on the chair Chakotay had occupied the night before, facing the Admiral. She traced the rim of her coffee cup delicately.

'But, I can't pass up this oppourtunity to get _Voyager_ home and cripple the Borg,' the Admiral smiled menacingly.

Janeway shrugged, speaking slowly. 'I'm not sure I'd be so willing to do the same in your position.'

She wasn't ready to give up or say goodbye.

And wasn't ready to die.

The realization hit her with a jolt, and she humbled slightly.

The Admiral raised an eyebrow. 'You haven't had the life I've had.'

Janeway snorted condescendingly. 'Yet.'

A chill settled on the air, and the Captain pulled the blanket off the back of the chair, draping it gently over her legs.

The Native-American pattern on the blanket was the only indication that the chair had been claimed by someone else.

The Admiral's eyes travelled over the blanket, eventually settling on the curious gaze of the Captain.

'I had an interesting conversation with Chakotay today,' the Admiral said casually, eyeing her tea and watching as the Captain stiffened.

'Oh?' she asked, staring out at the stars over the Admiral's head with intense fascination. 'Are you going to tell me?'

The Admiral offered a sardonic smile.

Janeway waved her hand in anticipation. 'Don't you dare wave the temporal prime directive at me again.'

'He wanted to know what happened to us,' she offered stiffly, looking away.

Janeway took a slow sip of her coffee, and conceded. 'I have to admit, I'd be wondering that myself.'

She could feel the lines of tension gathering in the corners of her mouth.

'I'm not going to tell you the story,' the Admiral offered flatly.

'I am not asking you to. Frankly,' she said seriously, waving a hand. 'I can do without it.'

The Admiral surveyed her for a moment.

'Good, because I'll be damned if I let you make the same stupid mistakes that I did,' she said firmly.

Janeway absently plucked at a stray thread, it's vibrant red colour now dulled after years of use. 'I'll do my best,' she said, quirking an eyebrow.

The Admiral sat quietly, eyes roaming over the blanket before her. 'I remember when he gave that to me.'

The Captain quirked an eyebrow. 'He gave it to you?'

Shrugging nonchalantly, the Admiral gave Janeway a sideward glance. 'Well, no.'

The corners of Janeway's mouth twitched in an understanding smile. The day he'd brought it to her quarters after one particularly devastating away mission was still fresh in her mind. He'd left it hanging over the back of the chair, and it had stayed there ever since.

She'd never been able to give it back; he'd never indicated he wanted it back.

Her hands ran over the smooth fabric in front of her, reminding her of a time when Chakotay's hands had guided her own, showing with deep affection the meaning of the patterns intertwined in the fabric.

Fabric he'd woven by hand on a world far away.

He'd told her many months later that he'd actually started it on New Earth; that it was always intended for her.

And it seemed like a lifetime ago.

The memory washed over her like ice water, and she shook it off.

She spoke abruptly, standing up suddenly. 'You'd better get some rest.'

The Admiral chuckled. 'Nothing like planning to be assimilated to tire you out.'

Janeway regarded her sadly, mixed emotions churning under the surface that made her feel just as uneasy and restless as the first time she'd encountered Borg space.

'Goodnight, Admiral,' she said quietly as she moved to exit her quarters.

Drawing a deep breath, she stepped out the door.

* * *

'Going somewhere?'

His cool voice cut through the quietness of the corridor, making her pause subtly in her confident strides.

'Ready room,' she answered primly, glancing sideways as Chakotay caught up with her.

'At this time of night?' he asked.

'With the Admiral staying in my quarters, I thought I'd sleep on my couch,' she said rigidly.

She shoves down the thought that once upon a time, Chakotay would have offered her his couch.

'I've been meaning to talk to you,' he said calmly.

If he'd noticed her icy exterior, he didn't say anything.

'Now really isn't the best time, Commander,' she countered forcefully.

The heavy unease churning around inside her chest from the visit with the Admiral had failed to leave her, and she had a sinking feeling that Chakotay was coming to speak with her about Seven.

She continued to stride out, moving away from him ever so slightly.

He took a few rather large steps to catch up to her.

'Kathryn,' he started with genuine concern. 'Is there something wrong?'

His perceptiveness was not lost on her.

She bit back a sarcastic response but continued to walk on ahead, pushing farther away from him with each stride.

They reached the doors to her ready room in comparative silence, but she had a feeling he wasn't going to stop at the door this time.

The doors opened silently as she keyed in her entry and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she felt his presence almost too close for comfort as he followed her in the door.

Pivoting, she turned completely to stare up at him, intent on asking him what the hell he was bothering her with at this time of night.

'Commander,' she started, but the intensity of his glare took her by surprise and she faltered in the beginning of her tirade.

He raised his eyebrows, curiosity written on his face.

She stepped back, and cleared her throat.

'Can it wait until tomorrow?'' she asked.

He clasped his hands behind his back. 'Actually, I'd prefer to talk about this now.'

She sighed, and retreated behind her desk. Waving her hand, she indicated he should sit down.

Her heart was thumping loudly in her ears as she waited for him to begin.

'I wanted to ask you how you're doing with all of this,' he tugged on his ear gently.

She raised an eyebrow. 'This?' His body language told her that this was a smokescreen for something else.

He shrugged, and gestured over his shoulder in the general direction of her quarters. 'With yourself.'

'Ah,' she looked down at her hands. 'Well, she's told me a few things.'

He smiled at her, his eyes examining her face warmly.

It reminded her of a time when they'd look at each other with unguarded affection. A time when the two people would talk freely about animal guides, mating behaviours and always standing by each other.

She briefly wonders what ever happened to _them_.

Seven years in an unchartered part of the galaxy had made Chakotay and Kathryn disappear.

Another sixteen years and she was in a first-row seat to see what she'd become as a bitter Admiral.

'She told me a few things too.'

She realizes he's speaking, and glances up at him.

She isn't sure she wants to hear _this_.

'If it has anything to do with the future, then I can't hear it Chakotay,' she held up a hand. 'I've told the Admiral the same.'

He nodded, but spoke anyway. 'I don't know how to feel about it.'

She snorted, flicking a PADD away with frustration. 'That makes two of us.'

She noticed he still hasn't sat down.

'Something else bothering you, Commander?'

He cleared his throat, and shifted uncomfortably. She creased her brow, but stared at him regardless.

'Actually,' he tugged uncomfortably on his jacket again. 'I wanted to let you know that I have become involved with someone.'

The thumping of her heart increased ten-fold, and she could feel a cold chill settling over her. 'Are you telling me this because it is affecting your duty on this ship, Commander?'

He was shifting again, and she could see the resistance in his stance to begin pacing around her ready room.

'No,' Chakotay answered slowly. 'I'm telling you as a friend.'

Clasping her hands on the desk in front of her, she regarded him coolly. 'Is that what we are?'

'I thought you would want to know,' he said defensively.

'What you do in your own personal time is not my concern,' she countered arrogantly.

'So, you don't want to know?' he exclaimed, frustrated at her ignorance.

'I'd rather not!' she snapped.

Deep down, she knew all about his new relationship, and whom it was with.

He regarded the Captain with an embittered expression.

'The Admiral already told you,' he stated flatly.

'She did.'

He growled. 'Well she had no right!'

Janeway stood up, meeting his gaze as she firmly planted her hands on the desk. 'She had every right!' she protested.

They were close now, chests heaving with discontent. She could see the stubble on his chin; the way it enhanced his features to make him suddenly more menacing.

His hands covered hers on the desk as he leant in further.

His eyes glanced down toward her lips. Her tongue darted out subconsciously and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Her heart was pounding into her throat. He was _too_ close.

But she didn't pull away.

'You're wrong, Kathryn,' he breathed.

She narrowed her eyes, his breath mingling with hers.

'She had no right because you don't deserve to know,' he exhaled forcefully, before pulling back and turning away from her.

His animosity was forefront now.

He disappeared out of the ready room doors as quickly as she expected, his anger emanating waves in his wake. The only thing missing was the slamming of the door.

She bit the inside of her lip, and closed her eyes.

She had an overwhelming urge to call him back and start screaming at him about Seven.

She wanted to scream at him about everything that had gone wrong in their final years.

But mostly, she wanted to scream at him and tell him she deserved to know with all her heart, if only so she could tell him that she loved him so much it hurt.

Instead, she settled for throwing her commbadge at the damn door that refused to slam.

* * *

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Chakotay found himself standing outside the door, hovering uncertainly as he debated on whether he should step over that threshold and face _her._

Again.

The one woman on this ship he'd been trying so hard to avoid, and yet he found himself drawn to her without much resistance.

Kathryn Janeway had a hold on him in any timeline.

Although he would grudgingly admit to himself that he had _definitely_ avoided the Captain after the conversation with the Admiral.

He tugged on the sleeve of his jacket.

'You may as well come in,' her cool voice echoed out of the shuttle, reaching his ears where he stood frozen just outside the door.

Stepping around the barrier, he tugged lightly on his ear and smiled at the Admiral tightly. 'I guess I don't need to ask how you knew I was there.'

She scoffed at him, and turned back around the console.

'Something you want to ask me?' she said pointedly.

He stood behind her, studiously avoiding looking at her and fidgeting with his jacket once again. He took a breath.

'Are you sure you want to do this?'

The Admiral gave him a stern glance.

He moved toward her gently, his footfalls echoing in the small shuttle. Sitting down, he watched her silently.

'There has to be another way,' he mused softly, tracing the features of her face with his eyes.

He could see the way her lips pursed, slight lines of tension the only indication that her frustration was rising with his continued insistence.

The Admiral's fingers stilled on the console, one of her impeccably manicured nails tapping absently in front of her.

'There isn't.'

'What makes you want to do this?' he asked honestly.

She rounded on him. 'This?'

'This self-sacrificing death wish you seem to carry around with you!' he growled in frustration.

'I _want_ to get this ship home!' she countered.

He regarded her seriously, leaning in. 'I think you're lying.'

His eyes roamed her face, searching for a flicker of anything that helped him to determine what the hell was going through her mind.

She was more unreadable than ever.

She stared back stoically, with almost an air of arrogance.

He decided to push her further, and take a risk. 'I know you're lying Kathryn.'

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

'You've had this death wish from the day I met you.'

She laughed, throwing her head back with an elegance that he'd forgotten she possessed. 'Captain's prerogative.'

'Is that really the reason for your decision to do this?' he asked seriously.

'Did you speak to her?' she shot back at him, levelling his gaze with icy blues.

He retreated slightly. 'Yes.'

'I assume it didn't go well,' she speculated.

He didn't answer, and instead pursed his lips. The frustration was written plainly on the Admiral's face.

'I thought as much. Our version of _that_ conversation didn't go well, either,' she mused.

He sighed, and rubbed his hands over his face.

'You don't have to do this,' he said pointedly.

Her blue eyes roamed his face, following the lines of his tattoo before meeting his gaze sadly.

'I don't want to live without you anymore, Chakotay,' she whispered softly, glancing away.

'I can't change your mind?'

Her silence spoke volumes. She adjusted her visor, subtly turning away from him even further.

The urge to comfort her was overwhelming, but he forced himself to stand. With great effort, he walked away.

The shuttle entered red alert as he neared the door, the red light intermittently blinking its countdown to her certain death.

He turned back and watched her in the pilot's seat, observing the way her reflection creased in concern when she noticed his failure to leave.

'Kathryn,' he started.

She held up a hand. 'Don't, Chakotay.'

'But –'

She looked over her shoulder sadly. 'You used to hate to leave me.'

He creased his brow, regarding her with a thudding pain in his heart.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

'You'd better leave before the Captain catches you in here,' she said coolly.

Nodding stiffly, he turned and left the shuttle, pausing to lean on the bulkhead outside the cargo bay.

He blew out a shaky breath.

He could remember a time when they had trusted each other unfailingly. A time when they had stood by each other so steadfast and strong.

She had told him long ago that she couldn't bear the thought of losing him.

Until today, he never understood why the hell she thought she was going to.

* * *

" _You used to love me;_

 _Used to hate to leave me" – Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond: "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" [Playlist]_


	3. Show Me That You Care

_A bit of a filler chapter, but strictly necessary._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Show Me That You Care**

They were home.

Captain Kathryn Janeway stood in her ready room, staring out at the expanse of Earth spinning slowly before them. The moment was so surreal; their seemingly endless journey had come to an abrupt finish in a few short days.

Thanks to one time-travelling Admiral Janeway who had the same penchant for self-sacrifice as the Captain.

She had to be honest with herself, the old woman had gotten in under her skin in ways that she didn't like.

The uneasy feeling that had settled in her belly upon the arrival of the Admiral had still failed to really fade away. She didn't want to dwell on the fate of her older self; but the way her gut churned each time her thoughts wandered made it hard to ignore.

Chakotay had not spoken to her since his abrupt departure from the ready room the night before, and she'd studiously avoided being with him alone ever since.

She'd caught him scuffling out of the shuttle before the Admiral had left for the mission that would end her life. She'd wondered what the hell he'd needed to say so badly to her older self.

A part of her had a fair idea.

He was so intent on his own thoughts that he'd failed to notice her walking toward the shuttle entrance. His face was unreadable, and she'd tried desperately not to dwell on it; she'd never be able to bring herself to ask him what had gotten him so rattled.

But she was going to make damned sure that the efforts the Admiral had gone to were not going to be in vain.

She hadn't been able to drink her coffee with the same satisfaction upon learning that the Admiral preferred tea.

Suddenly, it had an appeal.

Sighing, Kathryn grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair before heading off to the bridge.

* * *

The entire bridge crew had been silent when she'd entered, by far too enamoured with the spinning planet before them on the view screen.

She could feel the odd sense of excitment welling up within her, and threatening to bubble over at the sight of so many smiles on the face of her officers.

It was a feeling she'd lost over the years, and she wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it.

Suddenly, she couldn't wait to see her mother and sister. Unnervingly, Mark entered her thoughts.

But there was an underlying sense of sadness, a yearning for the life they were all going to leave behind.

Swallowing the sadness, she stood behind Tom Paris, clearing her throat softly. Of all the people on her ship, Tom had the most to lose by leaving _Voyager_.

She thought of the tiny baby in Sickbay.

'Happy to be back, Tom?'

He turned around to face her, grinning broadly. 'Yes, Ma'am!'

Her grin mirrored back at him as Tom raised an eyebrow slightly, and shrugged his shoulder in the direction of the upper level.

If there was one thing about their crew, it was that they never missed any form of tension between the two commanding officers.

She could only imagine all the times Tom had wished for eyes in the back of his head.

She followed his gaze, glancing back to see her First Officer standing next to Seven. Her heart constricted painfully, but she turned back to Tom and shrugged her shoulders slightly.

A small part of her always knew that he would move on with his life, that she couldn't ask him to wait forever.

But it hurt her all the same.

And just like she did every other time, she squashed the thoughts down.

Suddenly now that they were home, her reasoning seemed to be so out of place. Their quick arrival had highlighted to her that their end may have been just as quick and final.

The argument from the previous night was still strong in her mind, and she hated herself for it. She hated how she'd risen to his anger, and how she couldn't ever look at him through the platonic eyes of a good friend.

Chakotay caught her gaze, and gave her a puzzled look.

She blinked rapidly, clearing her thoughts before seating herself in the command chair.

The view screen flickered to life as Admiral Paris gazed down. ' _Voyager, you are clear to dock at McKinley Station.'_

Kathryn smiled. 'Yes, sir.'

Chakotay came to sit down beside her as the Admiral vanished, leaning over and speaking to her softly.

'You did it, Kathryn. You got us home.'

She swallowed roughly, meeting his eyes. They stared at her openly, but lacked any emotion or warmth in their brown depths.

'Thanks to Admiral Janeway,' she commented.

He stiffened slightly at the mention of the Admiral, and lent back into his own chair to watch as they neared the docking station.

Her eyes trailed his profile for a moment as he stared straight ahead. His steadfast posture gave nothing away.

She supressed a sigh.

Kathryn cleared her throat, and turned to face the viewscreen. 'Take us in, Mr Paris.'

* * *

She pressed the door chime, and stood back. She smoothed the edges of the pink blanket in her hand, fingering the soft knitted fabric with intense concentration.

She barely registered the door opening in front of her.

'Captain!'

Tom Paris stood before her, his face beaming.

She smiled back at him with a warmth that she hadn't felt in a while.

'I brought something for your little one,' she said, holding out the blanket in offering.

Tom smiled, and stepped aside. 'Please, come in.'

She took note of the darkened circles under his eyes, and smiled softly to herself. She had a funny feeling that she didn't look so great either, and she didn't have a baby that was hours old.

B'Elanna sat propped up on their couch, cradling a tiny bundle in a fluffy blanket.

'Captain!' she smiled warmly.

'Hi, B'Elanna,' she answered, moving quietly toward the Lieutenant and holding out the blanket. 'I thought she might like a new blanket.'

Reaching out, B'Elanna took it gently. 'It's wonderful Captain! Thank you.'

A single chair, not unlike the one in her own quarters, sat untouched opposite the young mother.

Sitting down, she took in the scene around her. B'Elanna sat quietly, pillows behind her, and a large over-sized sweatshirt that looked extremely comfortable.

She held another pillow across her lap, her arms crossed and in them was the tiny bundle.

Kathryn's heart thudded as mixed emotions stirred within her.

She pinned a confident smile on her face.

'She's so tiny.'

The baby stirred a little, making a small noise and waving a tiny fist in sleep.

Tom smiled from behind the Captain. 'We've decided to name her Miral.'

'I think that's perfect,' she agreed.

Kathryn looked from B'Elanna's beaming face down to the tiny baby in her arms.

Her insides clenched.

Although she'd made numerous baby blankets over the course of their journey, she'd left the cuddling and doting to the other members of the crew that were closer to the mother or father. In truth, she felt like she'd lost a bit of her mothering instinct over the years.

In their fourth year exploring the Delta Quadrant, directly after her _Dear John_ letter from Mark, she'd decided that she was quietly glad she had never been blessed with children of her own before that point.

A part of her had been left behind when she'd destroyed that array, and she doubted she now possessed the ability to love a child as wholly as she should.

Perhaps she no longer had the softness required to be a truly devoted parent.

But, somehow, little Miral was stirring emotion inside her that she'd long forgotten.

She had a sudden, and intense yearning to be a part of this child's life, and share it with the parents she'd grown so close to in seven years.

'Do you want to hold her, Captain?'

B'Elanna's voice cut into her thoughts.

She braced herself.

Uncomfortably, she felt like she'd been caught with her inner-most thoughts exposed.

Kathryn had convinced herself over the years that her calling had been to follow the Command track of Starfleet.

B'Elanna's eyes watched quietly as Tom took Miral, and placed her promptly in the arms of the Captain.

She shuffled herself around gently, and lent back in the chair. She stared at the little face before her, noticing for the first time the tiny forehead ridges. Her eyes were closed, and her head had little bits of dark fluff sticking up in odd directions.

'Would you mind holding her for a minute, Captain?' B'Elanna asked. 'I would like to have a quick sonic shower.'

Kathryn opened her mouth to protest, but B'Elanna cut her off.

'Please, Captain?' she grimaced. 'The whole process was _ickier_ than I thought, and I really need to shower.'

She took in the look of the desperate woman before her and smiled. 'Ickier?' she queried, raising an eyebrow.

B'Elanna struggled to her feet. 'You'd think in the twenty-fourth century, they would have worked out how to fix that issue.'

Kathryn chuckled. 'Go, B'Elanna. I'll watch her.'

She barely noticed B'Elanna scuffling off in the direction of the bathroom, Tom trailing after her. Pulling back a loose portion of the blanket, she stared in awe at the baby.

She was perfect.

Picking up her hand, Kathryn trailed a finger along the curve of a tiny ear, and along the chubby cheek. Miral's fingers were tiny versions of those sported by her mother. The forehead, and the jawline were definite representations of the Engineer.

Kathryn wondered briefly if Miral would have Tom's eyes.

She'd just settled further back into the chair when she heard the chime of the door.

Without waiting, the doors opened.

She heard him coming with his heavy footsteps before she saw him, and could feel the moment he froze.

'Captain,' he uttered stiffly.

She turned as much as she could, tilting her chin and looking up over her shoulder. 'Commander.'

He moved to stand directly in front of her, clasping his hands behind his back in a familiar pose. She was instantly transported back to the night before in her ready room, his pose eerily similar to the one he had taken before he'd informed her about Seven.

Although he'd never expressly stated _who_ he was dating.

'I thought it was time I came to meet the new arrival,' he said rather awkwardly, tugging on his ear in a familiar gesture.

Kathryn tugged the corner of her mouth up in a small smile, and looked down. 'She's sleeping at the moment.'

Chakotay looked around, shifting on his feet. 'Did you steal her from her parents?' he smiled.

She shrugged, and flicked her head in the general direction of the bathroom. 'Apparently, the process is _icky.'_

'Ah' he answered, smiling in a way that failed to reach his eyes.

They looked at each other for a moment, and Kathryn could feel her heart settle in her throat. She shifted, and indicated to the bundle in her arms. 'You want to see her?'

Chakotay cleared his throat, and took a step closer. 'Sure.'

She shifted again, sitting up in the chair and raising the baby a little higher in her arms.

Chakotay's hand came out, and moved a lose bit of blanket away from the tiny face.

His hand looked positively huge next to the baby, and a finger stroked her cheek with a delicacy she didn't think was possible.

He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from hers as he stared down at Miral.

'She's beautiful,' he breathed.

His eyes flicked up to hers.

Brown eyes bored in to blue.

Her tongue came out to touch the corner of her mouth, as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. His eyes shifted down, tracing her mouth.

She let out a shaky breath, and tightened her hold on Miral.

His mouth opened as he went to speak.

'Commander!' Tom's cheerful voice broke the moment, and they both pulled back abruptly.

Chakotay turned quickly on his feet, and stepped away. 'Lieutenant,' he spoke. 'I just called past to offer my congratulations, and meet the new member of the Paris family.'

His voice barely wavered.

It was a sharp contrast to the pounding heart in Kathryn's chest.

'Can I offer you anything, Commander?' Tom asked, walking toward them with a barely supressed grin. 'B'Elanna is nearly finished, and when the Captain has finished, you're welcome to hold her,' he offered with a wink in her direction.

Chakotay cleared his throat roughly. 'Thanks, but I can see she's sleeping. I might come back later.'

Before Tom had a chance to reply, the Commander had already moved to the door.

Tom glanced in her direction, and raised his eyebrows in question. Kathryn merely pursed her lips silently, and looked away.

As the doors closed abruptly behind Chakotay, Kathryn leaned back into the chair and closed her eyes.

* * *

She'd been the last one to beam off Voyager, smiling at each member of her crew as they made their way off the ship and home to their families.

Chakotay had stayed until the last moment, insisting that he should go with her. The tension between them had failed to ebb in the few days aboard _Voyager_ as they waited out the quarantine Starfleet had insisted on.

In truth, she'd avoided him by oscillating between her ready room and quarters, packing up her belongings into cargo containers and making sure to move between decks when she was sure he was busy.

She'd been sure to call before calling past to visit Miral, if only to avoid the awkwardness of their last meeting.

A small part of her was grateful she didn't have to see him beam off with Seven, but she was reminded strongly by his presence that he had also not brought up his relationship with Seven again.

 _That_ was a conversation she could really do without.

She wasn't used to leaving their arguments hanging. But she had a feeling that the conflict over the _Equinox_ wasn't going to be anywhere near the heartache that this new situation was going to cause.

She acknowledged him as he came to stand beside her. 'Commander.'

He nodded, smiling with unguarded happiness. 'Captain.'

Excitement at being back home was running high with the underlying frustration at the quarantine order that had come through from Starfleet.

Their families had been waiting for days aboard _McKinley_ station _._

Unfortunately, Starfleet were being particularly troublesome until the medical staff could be sure that they were not carrying any foreign bodies or nasty diseases that would affect the Alpha Quadrant.

Kathryn couldn't wait until they found out about the New Earth virus.

There was going to be a whole mess to deal with there, and she knew that the majority of her next days would be spent in negotiations with Starfleet about the Maquis and Equinox crew.

The transporter pad cleared, and she went to step up as Chakotay's arm stopped her.

'Kathryn,' he started.

Her breath caught, and she looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow.

'I wanted to thank you,' he said.

'Oh?' she asked.

He shrugged awkwardly. 'For getting us home.'

She regarded him solemnly. 'I said that I would.'

The corners of his mouth quirked. 'Yes, you did.'

The stared at each other for a moment, his hand on her arm searing through the fabric of her sleeve.

Her heart began to thump loudly again.

She swallowed thickly, and glanced away.

He seemed to want to say something, and she could almost hear the words on the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he pulled back. 'Well, you've given me a chance to live my life again,' he said finally, smiling with an emotion she couldn't place. He stepped away from her onto the transporter pad.

A lump rose in her throat, as the images of his life now involved a certain blonde member of her crew.

Unwittingly, she was beginning to visualise his life, and Seven was now taking the place she'd always reserved for herself.

She squashed it down, and strode up onto the transporter pad with purpose.

She could feel a part of her dying; a sadness setting in to her bones and wrapping itself around her soul.

But for the moment, as she beamed off _Voyager_ , she flipped down the mask, squared her shoulders and tried to focus on the small flicker of excitement at seeing her mother and sister again.

* * *

" _Why you're gone is nobody's fault but mine" – Daughtry "Spaceship" [Playlist]_


	4. Lets Leave it Like We Care

_This has been by far my favourite chapter to write! Enjoy :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Let's Leave It Like We Care**

No matter how much she tried, it seemed like Kathryn wasn't getting anywhere.

It was useless to try and explain how much the Maquis had assisted in getting Voyager home. Without the guidance of Chakotay or the skills of B'Elanna, Voyager wouldn't have even lasted the first week in the Delta Quadrant.

'Admiral, I don't think you understand – 'she started, running a hand over her face in vain.

' _Captain,_ ' Admiral Hayes stressed her title strongly. 'At this point, your orders still stand.'

Starfleet were more concerned about the public image rather than doing what was right. The very thought brought a whole new rush of rage to the surface and Kathryn stood up abruptly, chair flying backwards as she paced her ready room.

With the years spent away from Earth, she had forgotten how infuriating the bureaucrats could be.

'The Maquis don't exist anymore, _Sir_ ,' she emphasised strongly, leaning in to the computer screen with menacing force.

The short visit on _McKinley_ station was doing nothing to quell the rising tension amongst the crew. The quarantine issue had yet to be lifted.

Admiral Hayes cleared his throat abruptly. 'Nevertheless, Captain, you will report to debriefings and the fate of the Maquis will be up for debate then.'

A part of her was regretting taking the track to command. Suddenly, being a science officer seemed a lot more appealing.

She convinced herself that she was doing this for _her_ crew. 'Yes, Sir,' she ground out, and ended the transmission.

That every last soul on Voyager would beam off the ship a free man or woman.

She had a sinking feeling that it was going to cost her dearly for the Maquis to go free. But it was her decision that left them out there, and the dark part voice in her head had convinced her over the years that she would do almost anything to set them free.

It didn't matter what it cost her.

She sighed, tiredly dragging a hand over her face.

* * *

Chakotay stood back and looked at the cargo containers before him.

It seemed almost impossible that he could have accumulated so many things in the seven years he'd been aboard Voyager. Most of them had come in to possession after the incident with the caretaker; his belongings aboard his own ship had been destroyed with the array.

Over the years, he had become accustomed to the rhythm of life board Voyager; the people, the work and the routine. Although, at times it had been a precarious existence – not knowing from one day to the next what dangers or adversities they would face - he'd found contentment here.

As a young man, the sense of belonging that he'd experienced on Voyager had been sorely lacking, and it was missing again now.

He was feeling off, like his whole world was about to be up-ended and turned the wrong way around.

The sight of his entire life packed into four cargo containers was doing nothing to quell the despair rising up within him.

A quick overview of the contents had turned up each and every one of them relating to Kathryn in some way.

He'd never thought of himself as terribly sentimental when it came to women.

A small jolt ran through him.

He shouldn't have been surprised. He'd been in love with the woman for years.

And he had studiously avoided that woman ever since the accidental run-in with her as he'd gone to visit the newest member of the Paris family.

The feeling it invoked was more sadness than anything. He'd tried desperately not to notice the way she looked with a baby in her arms.

If he was really honest with himself, the Admiral's revelations had disturbed him more than anything.

It was disconcerting to know that in the twenty-three years the other Voyager was in the Delta Quadrant, his and Kathryn's relationship had only deteriorated.

Although, he'd really struggled with the concept of Seven becoming his wife.

The Admiral's predictions at his own grief over Seven's death had seemed so far-fetched, and he'd had to remind himself that their relationship was still so new, and feeling had yet to develop.

What had gotten to him more was the way Admiral Janeway had relayed the story of _them._

The Admiral hadn't expanded on that part of their relationship, but he could read between the lines. She had become his stress release and he had used her; taken what he had wanted from her and then left her alone.

It was little wonder she was so bitter and cynical.

He sighed, and began to close up the final containers, ready for them to be shipped to his temporary Starfleet quarters just in time for the de-briefings to start after their 'welcome home' party.

He snorted sardonically to himself. Trust Starfleet to be the ones to turn something in to a big event. Briefly, he wondered how Kathryn had been dealing with all the incoming transmissions.

'Probably with a giant cup of coffee,' he whispered aloud, shutting the container with a bang.

Truthfully, he wanted to go somewhere quiet for a while, to adjust and process the turmoil of the last week.

His gut had clenched each time he'd thought of his relationship with Seven, and he'd squashed it down quickly. It was like a bad memory that was hovering over him, refusing to leave him alone.

Somehow, this developing relationship felt more permanent; something different from the dalliances he'd had aboard _Voyager_ over the years. He wasn't going to deny that he was attracted to Seven; she was… intriguing.

The problem was he had no clue what to do about it.

* * *

The senior staff sat crowded around the briefing table for what would be their last ever gathering on _Voyager_. They'd been scheduled to beam-off at intervals, the more junior staff going first.

The Captain paced impatiently, and her agitation was rubbing off on the senior officers as they waited patiently.

'Last thing on the agenda for today,' she started, looking around the table with unrest. ' _Last,'_ she stressed.

'The Homecoming Ball is tomorrow night,' she began, glaring at Tom Paris as he started to groan rather audibly. 'It's going to be broadcast across the entire quadrant, and of course attended by some fairly high-ranking officers. Your families will be there, so please ensure all staff in your departments act accordingly.'

She sighed, seating herself down in the chair located at the head of the table. 'It's a nightmare, I'm aware. The media will be everywhere,' she shrugged apologetically. 'Apparently, no uniforms either, so wear something nice,' she finished, arching an eyebrow.

She surveyed the staff before her, swallowing roughly as the gravity of the moment began to settle in. Their faces looked at her expectantly, barely concealed frustration ebbing below the surface.

'I know this has been tough on you, and I appreciate your patience,' she said, trying her best to plaster a smile on her features. 'Dismissed.'

The staff filed out of the room, Harry pausing to give her a look that she couldn't quite decipher. His eyes flicked to her right, and he almost looked like he was about to say something before he left the room quickly.

Janeway began to pick up the PADD's littering the table when she realised Chakotay had yet to vacate his place by the window.

Her ire was growing with each passing moment of silence when he finally spoke up.

'Is everything alright, Kathryn?'

She bristled at the use of her first name, but didn't comment. 'Yes, Commander.'

Quite honestly, she wasn't sure what she could class as _alright_ anymore.

He lent back in his chair, smirking.

'Something amusing you?' she shot at him. Her annoyance and hurt at their last conversation in her ready room had failed to subside over the days spent in quarantine.

'I'm trying to imagine you in something other than that uniform,' he said seriously.

If she wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of sadness in his tone.

'Don't,' she said forcefully.

He stood up, and faced her fully. He cleared his throat diplomatically, and the corners of his mouth began to curve in a smile. 'A dress would be nice.'

Her heart fluttered and her stomach lurched. No matter how much he hurt her, he could invoke a smile from her despite her best efforts. 'It means we are being _punished.'_

He quirked an eyebrow.

She waved a PADD in the air. 'I brought their ship back! Unscathed!,' she exclaimed. 'It's a _Starfleet_ function. We should be _allowed_ to wear our uniforms.'

Chakotay looked at her squarely, a corner of his mouth curled in amusement. 'I'll have to dig out my suit.'

Janeway stepped back, and held the collection of PADD's in front of her chest like a shield. 'I hope you'll assist Seven in choosing suitable attire, Commander.'

He stood up straighter, and gave her a calculating look. It was the first time they'd openly brought up his relationship with the former Borg.

The way she'd said the words stung, and the surprise was etched on his face.

She stepped back again, pivoted on her heel and exited the briefing room.

It was certainly not the way she had wanted to end her last briefing aboard _Voyager_. It was the first time that Janeway considered that after tomorrow night, she might not see Chakotay again.

And the very thought hurt like hell.

* * *

Commander Chakotay's eyes kept drifting back to the Captain as their escorts droned on about the security procedures surrounding their homecoming ball. Paris, Kim, Tuvok, Torres and the Captain were all subtly rolling their eyes. They'd read the briefing, they'd listened to the security escorts – several times – and they were no stranger to security protocols.

Hell, even _Seven_ knew the procedure.

He was distinctly uncomfortable in his suit. The material was too scratchy and stiff, and it reminded him strictly of a time he'd rather not try to remember.

The past twenty-four hours had continued to decline after his brief conversation with the Captain in the briefing room. He'd done his best, and tried to help Seven chose something to wear that wasn't her too-tight catsuit.

In truth, he felt like he was entirely out of his depth. Besides his consistent lack of fashion sense – a reality that neither Janeway or Torres had let him forget over the years – he had rather hard time imaging any dress on any other woman other than the Captain.

The escort was still droning on, and Tuvok was staring with rapt attention. As was Harry. Ever the model Starfleet officer, Chakotay thought with a barely suppressed sarcastic thought.

Paris was harassing Torres, and Seven was observing the situation with an arched eyebrow.

The Captain was being distracting.

She probably didn't even know just _how_ distracting she was being.

Although, knowing Janeway, she probably had _more_ than an idea.

He was finding it decidedly hard to take his eyes off her. He swallowed roughly, and tugged on his ear, listening with feigned eagerness to the escort. He sure as hell didn't want her to know he was looking, and he definitely did not want Seven catching on.

His mouth had gone dry when she had walked in.

It had been his good luck for once that she had been distracted trying to squash something into her small purse so she didn't notice the look on his face.

He'd worked in close quarters with her for seven years. He was used to her teasing, subtle touches and even her flirtatious side. His stomach clenched tightly when he remembered those first few years when the Captain had been unguarded.

But he was well aware she was attractive. He was even more aware that he'd been constantly attracted to her on some level throughout the years.

Just because he'd fallen in love with her once didn't mean that he was fated to want her for all eternity.

He was, though, not expecting her to walk in looking like _this._

She looked so… expensive. And not at all like the Captain.

Her eyes flicked over to his and she gave him a look he couldn't decipher. Slender fingers fiddled with the chain around her neck.

With surprise, he noticed her long-forgotten engagement ring on her finger.

Her head titled to one side elegantly in an eerily reminiscent gesture of the late Admiral. She leant back on the transporter console, elbows resting on the top and one hand drumming ornate fingers rhythmically on the hard surface.

Chakotay swallowed and forced himself to look anywhere but there.

He jumped when Seven placed a hand on his arm, and he realised that their escort had finished speaking.

Seven's confused glance told him she didn't miss his surprise.

The first of the senior staff assembled on the platform and Chakotay's eyes drifted back to the Captain. She blew a tendril of auburn hair out of her eyes and nodded in the direction of the transport officer.

The staff shimmered away and the remaining few moved forward to take their spots on the pad.

The Captain moved forward, and stepped up next to Chakotay. Seven stood stoically on his right.

He swallowed roughly as the Captain came a little bit too close. She even _smelled_ expensive.

He looked at her. 'Ready to go?'

She scoffed and gave him a glare out of the corner of her eye.

'Are you armed?' he asked seriously.

'Is that a requirement?' she shot back.

'Kathryn,' he started, swallowing his panic. 'You need to be able to protect yourself.'

She dropped her head to the side sarcastically, mouth set in a hard line as her eyes searched his face. 'I have something,' she stated flatly, and turned away from him.

The transporter chief began to activate their beam-out.

He didn't even want to begin to imagine exactly _where_ she'd put that weapon.

They'd materialised outside the building, family and officers waiting with barely concealed impatience for the command crew of _Voyager_.

He'd barely gotten his bearings when a tall man with grey hair came striding out of the crowd so quickly that the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He was about to shout at Kathryn to when he caught the look on her face.

It was a look he'd seen only once, on a planet far away from here when it was just the two of them and a damned monkey.

He heard her speak softly. 'Mark.'

She stepped into his embrace openly, and Chakotay watched with morbid fascination as the man wrapped his arms around the Captain, holding the back of her head with a delicate touch.

He didn't miss the way Kathryn leant up, her face buried closely in the curve of his neck.

The scene got to him in a way that he didn't expect. Mark had been a long-distant figure in world far away.

After the Dear John letter Kathryn had received, Chakotay had never expected to hear about the man again.

Yet here he was.

He shouldn't have been surprised. If Kathryn had disappeared from his life, it wouldn't have matter how long she'd been gone, he'd be right there the second she got back.

Turning away, he squashed his thoughts away and smiled at Seven. 'Is your Aunt here?'

Seven regarded him with her usual cool expression. 'I believe so.'

He held out his arm, indicating Seven should head in that general direction and she moved off.

He resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder at the Captain one last time. Although if he had, he might have seen Kathryn take off her engagement ring and hand it to the man who stood in front of her before saying goodbye.

* * *

A few hours later, and Chakotay was more than ready to approach the Captain and ask her precisely where she had hidden that weapon if only so he could turn it on himself.

Everywhere he went, people asked him questions and quizzed him incessantly on their life in the Delta Quadrant. Starfleet had their officials following them at every opportunity, keeping a close watch on what was said and to whom.

The favourite topic of conversation was of course his relationship with Captain Janeway.

It wasn't entirely unexpected, but annoying all the same.

Seven had been surprisingly open to the experience, wanting to dance at almost every opportunity – no thanks to her lessons with the Doctor. Apparently, she had a new appreciation for 'paganist cultural rituals'.

His feet were now rubbed red raw from his ridiculous dress shoes.

He'd graciously met most of the family members from the crew. Seven's aunt had been reserved, but opened up the more she got to know the niece that had been lost all those years ago.

Seven's blunt attitude definitely needed work.

The Janeway's had been a family he'd been curious to meet above all. They'd of course, been thrilled to have Kathryn home, but he couldn't shake the feeling of cautiousness that their conversations had brought.

They'd been reserved in interacting with him.

Briefly, he wondered what it was that Kathryn had told them.

He hadn't seen the Captain all evening. She had been shuffled around between Starfleet's finest, obviously charming them all with her with and grace.

True to form, she had accepted everything in her stride, danced with, drank with, and spoken to them all at length.

Chaktay had a feeling she was doing some serious groundwork into the Maquis and _Equinox_ fight that he knew would come the second they started their de-briefings.

He definitely needed a drink.

Heading toward the bar, he stopped abruptly when he saw Kathryn hovering near the end of the area. He was momentarily content to run his eyes over her exposed back without the risk of being caught.

The fairness of her skin was a sharp contrast to the deep blue of her gown, and the rich red of her hair.

He shook his head roughly, reminding himself strongly of _who_ she was and who _he_ was here with.

Not for the first time that day, he found himself questioning if the relationship with Seven was what he really wanted.

He caught the tail end of Kathryn's order as he appeared next to her.

'What are you drinking?' he asked.

She looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. 'You look like you've been battling the Kazon for six hours, Commander.'

He suppressed a grimace, and lent on the bar.

Her drink arrived promptly, and she picked up the glass, eyeing him over the top of the rim. 'Whiskey,' she supplied.

He looked at her quizzically. 'The real thing?'

She titled her head to the side, exposing a long expanse of pale neck. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked away, watching the mass of people – mainly the crew- milling around the dance floor.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her blue eyes were bright. She looked even better this close than she did from a far.

She didn't look at him as she spoke. 'Seven enjoying herself?'

He swallowed his discomfort and answered with an air of nonchalance. 'I think so. My feet are pretty sore.'

She snorted. 'Bet you mine are worse.'

He glanced down. Her slim feet were encased in impossibly high heels. No wonder she had seemed taller next to him on the transporter pad.

She took another drink of her whiskey, eyes closing as the liquid burnt its way down her throat. 'I'm only going to say this once, Chakotay.'

His interest piqued, he regarded her.

'Go easy on Seven. It will take time,' she spoke. 'You're her first relationship.'

Now he really wished he'd ordered a drink.

Her statement had such an air of sadness about it, and it pulled at his heart. He wanted to desperately to reach over and smooth the lines of sadness away from her eyes.

He looked at her fully, and seriously. 'You're never going to tell me what the Admiral said to you, are you?'

The corner of her mouth lifted in a sardonic half-smile. 'Temporal prime directive.'

His gaze roamed her hands, to the auburn hair balanced in a messy waterfall on her shoulder. It was longer than he remembered.

He raked his eyes over the curve of her neck, exposed collarbones and back to her blue eyes. Her throat moved as she swallowed the whiskey.

Her blue eyes had gone dull, the hurt etched there plainly for him to see.

If there was one thing he was certain of in that moment, it was that he would never understand this woman.

* * *

The night was nearing its end.

Unfortunately for Kathryn, 'protocol' dictated that the last dance of the night be conducted with the senior staff.

Protocol.

Oh, how she hated that word.

She'd give all the coffee in the galaxy to see Picard and Riker dance together right now.

Her brave front that she'd kept in place all night was beginning to wear thin. Her feet hurt, her head hurt and all the constant questions were beginning to irritate her.

Only her mother and sister could see through it, and she had studiously ignored their concerned glances for the last hour.

She was going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.

Just as she was beginning to plan her escape, Chakotay appeared beside her and began to steer her toward the dancefloor. He murmured something in her ear that she completely missed.

The music started, and their movements were awkward and off-centre. Kathryn was uncomfortable and stiff.

She felt as if every pair of eyes were on her and her now-former first officer. She didn't want to be this close to him.

Chakotay read her body language perfectly, and leant in to whisper to her. 'Relax, Kathryn.'

She took a step back, and tilted her head up to look at him. 'I don't…' she trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He moved his hand along her back, pressing his fingertips lightly into the groove of her spine and urging her closer again. His fingers were cool against her too-warm skin, and the pressure was unyielding to the point where she had no choice but the lean into him.

Sighing, she followed his lead, treading carefully in her heels and trying to avoid his toes at all costs. She noticed with gratitude that Tom and B'Elanna had moved in closer, trying their hardest to shield the command team from prying eyes.

The minutes slowly ebbed by, and she forced herself to relax. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and leant in to his neck.

She suddenly realised she wasn't ready to let their friendship go just yet.

His hand inched that fraction lower on her back, making their stance not entirely uncomfortable, but more intimate than she would have liked. Another hand found the base of her neck, entangling itself in her hair and encouraging her to lean closer into his neck.

The bitter voice of the Admiral appeared in her head.

His aftershave was assaulting all her senses and making her dizzy. It was intoxicating in a way that was not unwelcome.

 _He_ was intoxicating.

They moved together, the whiskey making her head spin. She wasn't even sure that the dance was anymore. Chakotay was just moving his feet and she was blindly following his lead.

She was far too wrapped up in the _feel_ of him to worry about anything else.

His breath was rhythmic against the top of her head as his lips moved.

'Kathryn, I…'

A loud bang startled her, and the spell was broken. She stepped back quickly, suddenly frightened at what he was going to say.

'Don't,' she whispered, shaking her head slightly but feeling it spin regardless.

He looked at her through a heated gaze, an array of emotion flickering across his face. She could see the lust, but the sadness lurked there as well.

She had to get away.

She had to get away before he voiced those _feelings_ and she did something she was going to regret.

She didn't want to hear those three words that would ruin the moment.

Meeting his gaze squarely, she strengthened herself for the words she knew she had to say.

She raised a hand to his cheek, and drew her bottom lip between her teeth. His stubble felt rough against the smoothness of her palm.

'Goodbye, Chakotay.'

Her words were final, soft and sad before she turned and walked away, leaving him in the middle of the dance floor.

* * *

Both B'Elanna and Tom had been watching the command team with interest.

It was like an approaching train wreck that they couldn't look away from.

They had watched with tense gazes as the dance had started between the two, eyes unblinking as they watched the two relax. B'Elanna's nails had been digging painfully into Tom's arm when Chakotay had moved his hand into the Captain's hair and whispered something in her ear.

They held their breath waiting for the final face-to-face revelation to grab their whole body.

Only it never came. Within seconds, the atmosphere had changed, and they watched as the Captain stepped back, laid a small hand on the Commander's cheek and walked away quickly.

'What was that?' Tom whispered, manoeuvring both him and his wife so prying eyes didn't see the Commander standing alone.

'I think,' B'Elanna started sadly, 'I think that was goodbye.'

* * *

" _The underground, your hide-out_

 _That chamber, where you still hung waiting_

 _For your torturer"- Ted Hughes: 'Your Paris'_


	5. One Last Night

_a/n: I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter!_

* * *

 **Chapter 5: One Last Night**

The months had slowly ebbed by after the homecoming ball as they headed toward winter. The leaves began to melt from the trees, and Kathryn found herself often gazing outside through the window from her meeting rooms.

Their de-briefings had been long and arduous, and every decision she had ever made was being hauled through the mud, with her tethered to the end.

Kathryn had fought valiantly, and in the end the Maquis had been allowed to keep their commissions - if they'd wanted them. She knew that B'Elanna had decided to stay on for the moment, and Tom had been offered a permanent position on _Voyager_.

She'd yet to find out in what capacity.

She'd also known from the paperwork that passed her desk that Chakotay was going to be offered command of _Voyager_ , and promoted. But she'd declined the offer to tell him herself, and it was going to be a few days before he was to be notified.

She'd been hesitant to go to his apartment, on the reasoning that she might find Seven there. And she really wasn't sure where _they_ were after her goodbye to him on the dancefloor.

It was an area of her life that she'd kept studiously locked away for many years, and she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of leaving herself so emotionally unguarded.

The liaison with Seven had hurt her more deeply than she'd imagined.

Unfortunately, she hadn't had much luck fighting for the crew of the _Equinox._ Starfleet had effectively buried their little excursion into the dark storage units on the ground floor, never to be heard from again. They wouldn't tell her what was to become of the crew.

She expected to have severe repercussions for her actions in that time, and had been quite surprised to learn Chakotay hadn't put much detail in his logs, and had omitted their argument entirely.

She had yet to ask him about it, and seriously doubted she ever would. It was a time in her command that she wasn't proud of, and she blamed that particular moment in time as the beginning of the rift between her and Chakotay.

He'd finally seen she wasn't perfect, and she no longer stood on the pedestal he'd placed her on years before. But she was grateful to him nonetheless, and he had never really broken his promise when he'd said he would make her burdens lighter.

In truth, she hadn't seen him much during their debriefing, but she'd been sure to be there for every member of their crew – himself included. Her door had always been open, and she'd had many late-night visits from crew members.

Only he'd never come.

Not that she had expected him too, and she wasn't sure if she was saddened or relieved.

Now that the last debrief had finished, Tom had organised a bit of an impromptu party for the crew at Sandrine's – the real one – and everyone who had not already gone off-world had attended. Apparently, it was a celebration of the end of debriefings, and her recent promotion to Admiral which had been broadcast to all corners of the quadrant.

Although, she was being called Captain far more often than Admiral at the moment.

Tuvok was already on Vulcan, getting his much-needed treatment, and Kathryn found herself sorely missing his presence during the evening. She wasn't even sure where Seven was, and she doubted she had the courage to ask anyone without sounding like she was prying.

The new relationship had been news that travelled at warp-speed throughout the former _Voyager_ crew. Many had chosen to keep their comments to themselves at the Commander's choice in partner, and Kathryn found it hard to ignore the sympathetic glances often sent her way.

She'd been quietly grateful she had yet to witness Seven and her former First Officer together, with the exception of a quick dance at the homecoming ball. Kathryn didn't miss the way Chakotay ended it rather abruptly when he'd caught her glance, leaving Seven rather confused.

Sandrine's was just how she'd remembered it from the program on _Voyager,_ including the rather pretentious gigolo that had propositioned her the first time she'd set foot inside the holodeck _._ Tom certainly had a future in holoprograms if he decided he didn't want the position on her ship.

 _Former_ ship.

She supressed a sigh.

Most of the crew had been happy to chat throughout the evening and were genuinely appreciative of her efforts during their meetings with Starfleet. A fair few of them had kept their commissions, and opted to stay on board _Voyager_. She'd been sure to spend time with them all throughout the evening, expressing her gratitude, and in return, her hand seemed to be constantly filled with a drink.

It seemed she had a reputation for preferring a rather expensive whiskey.

Kathryn had found herself feeling a profound sense of loss throughout the whole evening, and she struggled to find the antidote she needed to squash the horrible feeling that was growing, and settling itself deep within her.

She hoped desperately that the crew would make an effort to stay in touch, for the next few years at least. Surveying them all milling around the small bar, she smiled to herself.

She was _really_ going to miss them all. Her eye caught the gaze of a certain blonde pilot.

'Captain!' Tom exclaimed happily, approaching Janeway.

She felt herself smile warmly and muffled her surprise when her former pilot hugged her tightly.

'Where is your little one tonight?' Janeway asked, as Tom stepped back.

Tom rolled his eyes with a grin. 'With the grandparents.'

Janeway nodded. 'Ah.'

She was secretly thrilled that Tom and his father had managed to make amends over the past few months, and that he'd taken to being a grandfather very well.

Not that she could blame him; Miral was pretty cute and rather addictive.

'So, what do you think of the real thing?' Tom asked her genuinely, waving a hand around.

'It's lovely,' she agreed, and she could see the subtle relief in his features.

He beamed at her. 'You look great, Captain,' he said, gesturing to her outfit.

The weather had begun to cool off significantly, and she'd opted for a thick sweater and long skirt. After seven years in space, any slight variation in temperature saw her running for the nearest sweater.

She was probably looking more feminine than her crew were used to seeing, but even Kathryn had noticed that the stress lines had started to wane in the last few weeks.

She felt herself blush as he corrected himself. 'I mean, Admiral.'

Clearing her throat, she leant in. 'You don't have to correct yourself on my account. I still don't answer if someone calls me Admiral!'

Tom opened his mouth to say something, and stopped short suddenly as his eyes flicked to something behind her. She saw him stiffen, and Tom's features darkened slightly. She hadn't seen that look on his face since the very early days of their journey, and her heart jumped immediately to her throat.

'Kathryn,' a voice startled her from behind, and she jumped slightly.

She turned her head toward the sound, instantly knowing it was _him_. She saw Tom vanish suddenly from the corner of her eye.

Stiffening, she turned around.

'You look a little overwhelmed,' he commented.

She lifted her eyes to meet his, and grimaced slightly. 'I am actually. I haven't been in the company of this many people in a while.'

She'd been quite the hermit of late, needing some space to really find herself.

He nodded with understanding, and tugged his ear.

The silence stretched on before she finally spoke. They'd never been this awkward around each other.

'I was just thinking about leaving. Think I could sneak out the back?' she asked, flicking her head to the door at the end of the room.

People wandered around the bar, laughing and talking loudly. She was beginning to grow uncomfortable with his heated stare.

She could remember a time when he looked at her like that and she didn't shy away. In recent years, he'd stopped looking at her like a lover, and now his face was showing his expression openly, she didn't know quite what to make of it.

'I was just having a drink with B'Elanna in the back, if you want to join us?' he asked hopefully.

She resisted the urge to snort. 'So, she's talking to you again?' Janeway asked dryly.

He ducked his head, but didn't comment. She'd heard about their legendary argument. A part of her was only sorry she hadn't been a witness to it.

But she had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly _what_ that argument had been about.

A certain blonde Borg came to mind.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, and glanced at the exit, then back to him.

She hesitated for a moment, and he took her silence for affirmation. Guiding her with his hand on her elbow, Chakotay steered her expertly through the crowd and to a small booth in the back.

His voice took on a soft, intimate edge as he whispered in her ear. 'Come on.'

She felt a chill go down her spine, and she studiously avoided looking at his eyes. They'd taken on an intensity that she wasn't used to seeing.

And it caught her off guard.

His hand moved to the small of her back, and her heart began to pound loudly.

Any lower and his hand would surely be indecent and she desperately hoped no one else was looking.

She resisted the urge to stiffen her spine, and step away from his touch.

They pushed their way through the last of the people and Chakotay continued to steer her in the direction of a table.

It was suspiciously empty.

She turned around, and quirked an eyebrow at him.

'Well,' he said, looking around guiltily. 'B'Elanna was here.'

'I appreciate the gesture, Commander,' she said genuinely. 'But I really should be going.'

He moved close to her again, effectively blocking her exit with his body. 'I'll walk you out,' he offered.

Only it wasn't really an offer, and Chakotay began to push her toward the door.

She could smell the faint remnants of his aftershave, and something else she couldn't quite place in that moment. Her hand brushed his hip as they made it through the door.

A hint of dizziness ran through her as the cool air hit her the moment they stepped outside. Janeway took a deep breath as the crisp air stung her lungs.

She briefly thought that perhaps she'd had a little _too_ much whiskey.

She could _feel_ his presence, burning into her back through the thick layer of her woollen jumper. Turning, her eyes flicked up to his.

'Chakotay,' she said, intent on asking him outright about Seven. Her curiosity at the woman's absence was getting the better of her, and fanning the small flame of hope flickering within her.

'I haven't seen you in months, Kathryn,' he said seriously.

His eyes bore into her own. She resisted the urge to make a flippant comment, and opened her mouth to say _something._

He barely gave her a moment to breathe before he was leaning into her, spinning her around with force that forced her head to collide a little too harshly with the stone wall behind them.

Heat radiated from him as she stared at his mouth.

She could feel his eyes piercing into her with frightening intensity, and entirely forgot what she was going to say.

Voices in her head started screaming at her that this was wrong, but she leant up into him anyway, grazing her lips against his own.

Chakotay's grip on her waist tightened, fingers boring painfully into sensitive flesh. His mouth teased at her own, tilting his head in a way that made it impossible for her to deepen the kiss.

Her heart was thudding painfully in her ears.

The breeze rustled the strands of her hair, tickling their faces.

He deepened the kiss, being a lot more demanding than she'd expected as he slanted his mouth over her own. She whimpered into his mouth as his breath fanned over her cheek.

He placed a hand against the wall, next to her head, holding her still as he shoved a muscled thigh between her legs to effectively pin her in place. The cold stones penetrated her jumper, making her shiver as she wound a hand into the edge of his loose shirt.

His skin was warm as her fingertips grazed against his hipbone, and then his stomach, the hard planes of his muscles flinching under the cool touch of her fingers.

She arched into him, dragging a manicured nail under his shirt and against his bare back.

The door from Sandrine's burst open, the voices filling the otherwise quiet alley way as a couple burst out into the night.

Kathryn jumped, breaking the kiss. She glanced worriedly down at the alley way at the couple, failing to recognise them in the dim light. The hand on her hip was almost painful, and she was sure she was going to have marks from his fingertips tomorrow.

He groaned, pulling back slightly and looking at her with dilated pupils. His breathing was hard and heavy, and she couldn't concentrate as she struggled to control her own breathing.

Her heart was pounding, she was starting to shiver in the night air and she could feel her lips beginning to bruise.

A hand gripped his naked forearm with frightening force as she flicked her eyes to his, searching for the answers in the dim light of the alley. Without a word, he flung her along the wall, guiding her with a thigh close to her own, and his chest pushing into her with frightening force as he pushed her into a more secluded part of the alley.

Her head was ringing, and her heart was pounding. She barely recognised the sound of more crew leaving the bar, laughing into the night.

She _needed_ to feel more.

She opened her mouth to say his name when his leg pushed up, easing the growing pressure between her legs as he bent down to capture her lips once more.

Her breath caught in her throat as her insides clenched in welcome relief.

Her palm flattened out against the small of his back, digging fingers in as she urged him closer.

Pulling back slightly, and leaning down, Chakotay began to kiss his way along her jawline, trailing down to her neck. She let her head fall back against the wall and closed her eyes.

His hand gripped her leg, and pulled it up roughly against his hip.

A low growl escaped him, and he pushed his hips further into her own. Her breath hitched and she stifled a groan as his hardness brushed against her.

His hands pushed her skirt up to her hip, large hands fanning over her bare thigh as the air tickled her skin.

Her body was jerking against him.

She buried her head into his neck, stifling the groans that threatened to escape. Her tongue darted out and tasted his, feeling his pulse in his jugular under her tongue.

She could smell his aftershave again, and she took a deep, stabilising breath.

The other scent she couldn't place earlier rushed over her again.

And it hit her like a bucket of cold water as she placed it, realising she'd completely misjudged the entire situation.

She pulled back, trembling fingers still entwined in his shirt. His eyes opened to look at her questioningly.

'Kathryn?'

Panic was rising up within her, and she dropped her leg from his hip; her heel clattering on the cobblestone with a resounding thud.

'You're still with her,' she stated unequivocally.

He recoiled away from her like she'd slapped him. 'Kathryn,' he said with anguish. He took a breath, and looked like he was gathering his thoughts to launch into an explanation.

She ducked away from the wall, her skirt falling down to cover her calves as she folded her arms in front of her chest. Her eyes fell to a lipstick smear, the pinkish hue contrasting on the stark white of his collar that she hadn't noticed before.

It was _definitely_ not from her.

'Don't, Chakotay,' she said firmly, trying in vain to catch her breath. She couldn't face him like this. Instead, she opted for the only thing she knew how to do, and spun on her heel, disappearing down the alley.

The guilty look that flashed over his features in the dim light told her all she needed to know.

* * *

Kathryn Janeway sighed, and glanced into the empty coffee cup that sat on her desk. The hands on the old-style clock told her it was well into the early hours of the morning.

She ran a hand over her tired face, and closed the screen of the computer before her.

Mission reports could wait until the sun was up.

Pushing a loose hair back behind her ear, she stood up and stretched her muscles. Her hair had begun to grow longer again in the recent weeks, and she'd lost that desire to trim it incessantly.

The Doctor had told her once it was a response to the stress she was under.

In truth, she'd felt a burning need to rid herself of anything that reminded her of home, and her femineity.

After the end of their second year, she'd stop believing that they would make it back to Earth in her lifetime. She'd put her engagement ring away after that, and her hair followed six months later. She'd held on to her long hair a little longer than she had her engagement ring.

But in the end, she'd cut it all the same.

Not long after, she'd stopped dreaming about bronzed hands running through the auburn strands.

She ordered the light off next to her desk.

A movement caught her eye, and she jumped slightly with a glance toward the door.

She relaxed slightly as she recognised her late-night visitor, but kept a subtle tension in her muscles. His large form filled most of the space as the shadows lined his face eerily. In another life time, she might have found him intimidating.

 _That_ was precisely why she'd been so grateful he'd accepted her proposition of serving as her First Officer in the first place. She'd had serious doubts about her ability to confront him if he hadn't been so willing.

She was strongly reminded of him asking her if she would've served under him.

 _That_ was a world in which she rarely dabbled.

He cleared his throat, and stepped into the room.

'Heading home?'

She scoffed, but remained silent. His words were so casual, like he'd called past her office at 0200 hours to take her for dinner. They weren't the words of a man in a relationship who'd spent an evening making out with his former Captain in a dark alley. And she could feel herself beginning to hate him for it.

She'd strictly avoided her bare, Starfleet-issue apartment over the past months. There was an old-style bar on her way home that she liked to visit instead, and quite often found herself there well into the morning until she'd wandered back to her office and slept on the uncomfortable couch.

It reminded her of Sandrine's, and the bar tender there had a tendency to sound rather like the Doctor at times. Since the encounter with Chakotay at the real Sandrine's she'd also found herself strictly avoiding that bar as well.

She'd felt too out of place in Indiana, staying there for only a few days with her mother before coming back to San Francisco. It wasn't that she hadn't been happy to see her mother, but she'd been isolated for far too long and it was taking longer than she thought to adjust back into having a family that she didn't give orders to.

Her silence didn't seem to bother him as he moved closer to her. 'I wanted to talk to you.'

'I don't think there is anything we need to say,' she said callously.

He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off.

'You're still with Seven,' she stated flatly.

'Not anymore,' he countered, moving further into the office and out of the doorway.

The loose tendril of hair fell forward again, and she brushed it aside angrily.

'When did that happen? After the other night? In the last two hours?'

She saw him swallow roughly, and his eyes betrayed his feelings. She'd been spot on with her accusation.

'We were wrong to do what we did,' she stated. 'It was wrong of _me_ to allow myself to be put into that situation.'

He continued to stare at her with burning intensity.

'I saw you with Mark,' he commented dryly.

'When?'

He folded his arms, and stood up to his full height. 'At the welcome home ball.'

She remained silent, and arched an eyebrow. She resisted to ask exactly _what_ his point was.

The homecoming ball had been months ago.

'And?'

'He's married.'

She snorted sardonically. 'My, you're perceptive,' she said, staring at him angrily. 'If you must know, he came to say _goodbye.'_

Emotion welled up within her, and she shoved it down. It had been one of her biggest regrets in the early years; that she would never live out the life she'd been ready for with Mark. She'd managed to convince herself over the years that it wasn't what she had really wanted.

But that day, that moment she stepped into his arms as he'd welcomed her back home, she realised she'd missed out on so much of that life.

Waiting for the next blow, she squared her shoulders and got ready to start yelling. Only it never came, and his eyes softened slightly as he looked at her.

'Kathryn,' he started, stepping toward her.

'You can address me as Admiral, like everybody else in this building, _Captain_ ,' she said coolly.

He stopped short and surveyed her for a moment. 'I thought you preferred being called _Captain_.'

'Not from you.'

She saw the surprise in his eyes, and suppressed a triumphant smirk.

'So,' he said, referring to her use of his new title earlier. 'You heard about the promotion.'

She regarded him with indifference. 'Of course.'

'And you have no issue with me taking your ship?'

'I know you'll look after _Voyager_ ,' she said seriously.

'You didn't want to inform me yourself?' he asked bluntly with an air of hurt.

'I thought about it,' she said honestly. 'But I didn't know _who_ I would find in your apartment at that time.'

' _Who?'_ he growled, stepping closer to her again.

She fought the urge to step back behind her desk. 'Seven.'

'That is none of your business,' he ground out.

'Isn't it?'

His eyes bore into hers within the dim light of her office. 'I've told you before, the Admiral had no right.'

She laughed dryly. 'She had every right. Or did you miss the part where she lived sixteen years without _you.'_

She clamped her mouth shut, drawing her lip in between her teeth and looking away. Without missing a beat, and seemingly not noticing her slip, he countered her argument immediately, exclaiming with frightening passion that had been held back for too long. 'By her own choice, Kathryn!'

He lent in closer, and she could feel his breath washing across the face. 'By _your_ own choice.'

Her hands twisted around the fabric of her pants, and she fought with every ounce of her being to not look away from the heat of his gaze. She couldn't show weakness.

Not now.

'I couldn't understand how she could be so cold. Now, looking at you, I can see it so clearly.'

His words cut her deeply, and she blinked away the hurt rapidly.

'I think you should leave,' she said icily.

He huffed out a sardonic laugh. 'So, this is goodbye.'

'What, again?' she said sarcastically.

He regarded her seriously for a moment, sadness etched in the corners of his eyes. He seemed to draw his breath in slowly, and stand up straighter, clenching the corners of his mouth as he looked at her.

'Goodbye, Kathryn.'

She stared at the door long after he had gone, suddenly losing her desire to escape to the bar. Glancing at the PADD with orders on her desk, orders demanding she go to some far-off, ice encapsulated planet and that _he_ was going to be the one to take her there, she swallowed the lump in her throat roughly, and resisted the urge to throw the damn PADD over the room.

She knew she should have told him. But she hadn't the bravery to tell him she'd be seeing him in a few weeks, when _Voyager_ was tasked on its next mission and Kathryn was tasked in leading the diplomatic charge to the god-damn ice planet.

He'd have to find that out for himself.

Collapsing on the couch, she held her head in her hands, letting the first of many tears fall.

* * *

" _Tied to a sallow heart_

 _Why does he want to bring me where he goes?" – Vaults: 'One Last Night' [Playlist]_


	6. You Don't Know Love

_a/n: I edited this chapter for an insane amount of time. In the end, my beta told me to just 'bloody well post it'. So, I did._

 _As a side note, these chapters were not supposed to get so long..._

* * *

 **Chapter 6: You Don't Know Love**

* * *

Captain Chakotay stood up from the chair on the bridge he had come to call his own, groaning slightly as he did so. He fingered the new pips on his collar, and gazed around the bridge out of sheer boredom. Compared to the Delta Quadrant, the Alpha Quadrant was incredibly dull. Or so he was finding.

The bridge crew had changed somewhat since Voyager first arrived back, with some old and familiar faced in their spots and other positions filled by new faces he had yet to come to know.

Fortunately, Tom Paris was still in his usual spot by the conn. His very presence was somewhat calming to Chakotay, who found himself craving the sense of normalcy they'd had in the Delta Quadrant. Constant attacks included.

He was still adjusting to sitting in the Captain's chair, and could almost swear that the scent of its former occupant permeated the air at every point. His new first officer was a little distant, but capable and he seriously doubted he'd ever find himself having dinner with Commander Marshall on a regular basis.

Certainly, not like he had done with Kathryn.

He wasn't sure if should be saddened or relieved that he didn't have to worry about personal feelings interfering with the _job_.

But, without someone to confide in, Chakotay had developed a rather strange friendship with newly-minted Lieutenant Commander Paris. He'd admitted quietly to Tom one morning over a shared love of tea that Chakotay missed having the former officers on board, even Tuvok. He'd been somewhat saddened to learn that the Vulcan would not be the First Officer aboard, or even serve in his former position of Security Chief.

Sometimes late at night, he would briefly let himself ponder what strings Kathryn had pulled to even get him a crew to command, and he found himself incredibly grateful to at the very least have Tom.

The new chief of security however, had turned out to be very personable with a wicked sense of humour, and was so opposite to Tuvok that Chakotay found himself a little out of balance. Not that he'd ever admit it. But, Lieutenant Wood was settling in and never missed a beat, and over time, he could see her becoming a close friend.

Harry still stood at ops, although was recently promoted to Lieutenant. Chakotay had to admit that he'd been surprised when Harry had decided to stay aboard, but was somewhat grateful.

Their first few weeks in Alpha Quadrant space had been fairly routine, and _Voyager_ found herself either shuffling dignitaries around, or investigating spatial anomalies that as it turned out, didn't always try to kill them. Much to Chakotay's new-found disappointment.

He suddenly understood with immense clarity what Kathryn had meant when she'd said she would have given anything for a Borg cube.

As it was, they'd been ordered back to DS9 to collect another dignitary and their aid. Apparently, Starfleet were not all that keen to send _Voyager_ back on deep-space assignments yet, and he'd wondered just how much they trusted him given he was rarely informed about _who_ was coming aboard.

He suspected Kathryn had a hand in that too.

Turning around, Chakotay opened his mouth to ask Wood when exactly they could expect this particular person, only she beat him to it. He wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with having someone being able to pre-empt him so easily. He begrudgingly thought that she must have been a telepath in a former life, to be able to read him so easily.

Or, he was just that predictable.

'They should be beaming aboard now, Sir,' she offered, reddening slightly when she realised he wasn't so thrilled with her pre-empting his question.

He supressed a sigh and nodded. 'Thank you, Lieutenant.'

He nodded to Commander Marshall, indicating he should take the bridge before striding toward the turbo-lift.

The turbo-life doors opened promptly, enclosing him inside as he ordered it to take him to the transporter deck. He guessed his irritation was showing by the way crewman were scurrying out of his way.

 _How on earth did Kathryn do this for seven straight years…_

He made a mental note to not be such a grouch, and to lock this political leader in the VIP quarters as soon as possible. At least they'd be out of the way…

The doors to the transporter room opened with their usual efficiency. The new Ensign – was it Taylor? – greeted him with a tight smile and announced that the dignitaries would be ready to beam up in a moment.

'Very well, Ensign,' he said, perhaps a little too sarcastically. 'Whenever the _dignitaries_ are ready.'

The Ensign muttered an affirmative and fiddled with the controls.

Chakotay turned toward the transporter pad, placing his hands on his hips in preparation. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the absurdity of it all; a Maquis Captain-turned Starfleet Captain-turned entertainer extraordinaire for dignitaries of the Alpha Quadrant.

Pushing down another flippant chuckle, he opened his mouth to offer the usual greeting when he stopped dead.

For there, right in front of him on the transporter pad was one materialising Admiral Janeway, lugging several bags, and a handful of coffee and a rather handsome looking aid in tow, standing right behind her.

She glanced around the room, eyes soft in the warmth of familiarity before they hardened and she looked directly at him.

His last angry word to her swam before him.

 _Goodbye_.

For a moment, they stared at each other before she offered him a crooked smile.

'Permission to come aboard your ship, Captain?'

* * *

Chakotay was quietly fuming.

He hadn't felt like this in a long time. _Years_ to be precise, not since damned _Captain_ Kathryn Janeway had forged an alliance with the Borg he had vehemently opposed to.

He'd hated her just a little bit in those moments. Hated the way she'd always had her own agenda and didn't care who got in the way. She'd done it for seven years in the Delta Quadrant, and she was doing it again.

It was with little doubt that she was the direct cause of his anger now.

Crewman scuttled away, avoiding his gaze and effectively trying to melt themselves into the bulkheads as he stalked on by for the second time that day.

He wondered if this what Kathryn had felt like at times; members of the crew always trying to stay out of the way, scurrying around to make sure everything was in order and hoping not to get in the way. They were nothing if not perceptive, and tension between a command team was rarely unnoticed.

He wondered if she'd always felt this _angry_.

Although, he admitted that this crew were probably more used to it than most, given the majority had decided to stay aboard _Voyager_. But he had never felt this… distant from the crew before.

Like he didn't know what they were thinking, or what the latest scuttlebutt was.

He was missing that sense of familiarity. And that sense of calm that came without having the responsibilities of the Captain.

As the first officer on _Voyager_ , the crew had felt like he was decidedly more approachable than the Captain.

 _Former_ first officer.

Kathryn was right that day, when she said she really was alone. It was lonely at the top.

The change from first officer to captain was coming around slowly. It had been more difficult than he had first imagined, and as it was, he still hadn't found the time to move fully into the Captain's quarters.

 _That_ was Kathryn territory. An area he had studiously avoided over the past few weeks since he had taken command of _Voyager_. He'd found more comfort sleeping on the somewhat uncomfortable couch in the ready room.

In his mind, her bed was strictly off-limits. It always had been.

Although the ready room was beginning to feel more like _his_ space, he still hadn't been able to rid himself of the coffee cup that Kathryn had "forgotten" the day she'd handed over command, and still found himself bringing fresh flowers every few days.

Not to mention he'd taken to using her coffee cup for his morning tea. Because it was simply _there_. At least, that was the lie he was sticking with.

The day he'd taken command of Voyager was the last time he had seen her, and she'd really only exchanged pleasantries when it was strictly necessary. In other words, she hadn't been alone with him at all and spoke to him only when she had to.

A small part of him had felt a little guilty.

That was, until she appeared on the transporter pad a few hours ago in _his_ transporter room carrying a few bags and dragging along a Commander that looked somewhat out of place and completely in awe of the woman he was escorting.

Her _attractive_ new aid was going to be in for a rude shock.

He supressed a sigh.

Reaching the VIP quarters, he punched the door chime a little harder than needed, grimacing the way the shock resonated through his hand. He didn't realise he had been clenching it so tightly over the last few hours.

The doors swished open without hesitation, and he found himself face-to-face with the woman who had been constantly in his thoughts for the past few weeks.

The woman he had studiously tried to squash from his mind after their abrupt, and rather hurtful goodbye.

His anger flared red-hot at the sight of her, leaning casually against the sofa as if her presence here was totally expected and planned.

'When were you planning to tell me?' his voice echoed off the walls in the quarters loudly. She didn't flinch.

She stood up, stepped toward him slowly, and arched an eyebrow. 'Now?'

He scoffed. 'Feigned innocence doesn't suit you, Kathryn.'

Stepping into the quarters fully, the doors swished closed behind him, leaving the two occupants in the room bathed in shallow light.

He noticed she was in casual attire; a soft-looking oversized jumper and loose pants. The jumper looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn't place it.

She was seemingly more vulnerable somehow. Smaller without the uniform on her shoulders and the boots on her feet. The new grey had suited her.

The missing Admiral pips didn't hurt to remind him that this was a purely _personal_ call, either.

The anger from his sarcastic sentence didn't register on her face, and he wondered briefly how long it had been since she allowed anyone to see her emotions.

She squared her shoulders, looking at him intently. 'I didn't want to give you a chance to say no.'

The honesty in her words were unexpected, and he found himself looking for a place to sit down, if only to ease the ache that was beginning in his tense shoulders.

'You thought… I'd turn… you,' he paused and cleared his throat. His anger was abating. 'Turn the _request_ down?' he finished, carefully noting to start paying attention to his syntax.

She moved closer again, slowly, one hand on her waist as her bare feet padded softly on the carpet. 'Our last few meetings haven't exactly been pleasant, Chakotay.'

Her use of his name hit him strongly in the chest, and he realized just how much he had missed hearing it in the last few months.

He shifted his feet, and stood up straighter. She seemed to tilt her head up higher, angling her face to look him in the eye. 'I thought that if you didn't know who was coming aboard, you'd have no objections to the mission you are tasked with.'

'We have always been able to look past our personal differences when it came to the job we had to do,' he said seriously, tightening the corners of his mouth involuntarily.

She stepped back, and folded her arms.

'Yes, we have.'

Grounding himself, he ran his finger along the collar of his turtleneck, grazing his new Captain pips has he did so. He still found them unnerving. Her eyes followed his hands with rapt interest, and he wondered what it was that she found there that caused her expression to become so… solemn.

'This time won't be any different,' he said seriously.

She seemed to pause for a minute, her eyes darting over his face as she tried to gauge the hidden meaning behind his words. When she apparently found none, her jaw tensed and she stood rigidly still. 'Very well. Goodnight, Captain.'

He watched her for a moment, feeling the familiar pain of longing wrap itself around his heart.

After all this time, she still had the power to dismiss him in an instant, and there was little he could do about it.

Even in his own god-damned ship.

With a curt nod, he spun on his heel and left.

* * *

The door chime in the ready room rang, and he raised his eyebrows, placing his tea down next to the computer on his desk. Somehow, he knew it was a bad morning to start putting his tea in _her_ cup.

He had a distinct feeling that the person at the door was the one he had been avoiding since their conversation in the VIP quarters almost a week. And it wasn't like her to be so polite.

But, he had expected her to come to the bridge eventually, especially now they were nearing the ice-planet she had been _ordered_ to.

'Enter,' he called, sitting up a little straighter and placing his tea closer to his hands.

Without a moment's hesitation, the doors opened and she strode into the ready room.

The whole situation, the former captain of the vessel asking permission to enter a room that had been solely hers for seven years, was honestly quite ridiculous. He might have found himself laughing, if not for the rather angry looking scowl on her face.

He opted for ignorance, plastering a smile on his face. 'Admiral, good morning.'

'Is it?' she asked sarcastically.

His fingers flicked against the tea cup he'd placed down. Her eyes cast downward briefly, a moment of recognition passing her features.

'You kept the cup,' she remarked dryly, standing rather stiffly in front of the chair he usually occupied in the former years.

He noted she made no move to sit down.

'You mean the one you left here?' he said without an air of humour.

'Did I?' she asked with disbelief, trying to be sincere but not quite managing it.

He could see straight through her lie. Just as she could see through the reason he'd decided to keep it. And use it.

He stood up from his desk, eyeing her cautiously over the expanse before them.

'You rang?' he asked lightly, flicking his head toward the door.

Janeway searched his face for a moment, chewing the inside of her lip thoughtfully.

'Actually, Captain, I'd like to know why I was informed this morning about a change to _my_ mission. At _your_ request,' she punctuated each word clearly, her eyes never moving from his.

He sat back down again, leaning casually against the back of his chair. 'You're referring to my request to have an additional away team beam down with you.'

The mission briefing had come to his computer terminal a few days after Admiral Janeway had beamed onto his ship. The further he read into the planned mission, the more that feeling of dread had settled in his gut and refused to move. He'd immediately contacted Starfleet and requested changes, but he had a feeling it was going to fall on deaf ears.

He had yet to talk to her about it, and it was little wonder she'd found out so quickly. In truth, he hadn't worked out the best way to broach the subject with her.

She glared at him, and didn't speak.

He picked up his tea, and sipped it slowly. 'I think it is only prudent.'

Janeway scoffed, grasping the back of the chair in front of his desk with both hands and dragging it toward her with surprising elegance. He watched with morbid fascination as her knuckles tensed white, fingers digging into the fabric.

He found himself imagining those hands grabbing something else entirely.

'Did you even read the mission briefing?' she ground out.

He blinked, clearing his thoughts. 'You mean the one that was sent to me _after_ you came aboard?'

The corner of her eye twitched, the muscles moving in her neck ever so slightly to indicate a nod.

'Yes, I did,' Chakotay stated simply. 'And, I think what they are asking you to do is completely ridiculous.'

Her spine stiffened, and she folded her arms across her chest. The look on her face hardened into the same one he'd seen for seven years; the same look she wore before she announced some self-sacrificing plan that she knew he would protest to. 'You don't think I can do it?'

He held up a placating hand. 'I didn't say that.'

Janeway opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.

'These people are completely unpredictable. They're dangerous,' he said firmly. He stood up again, coming around his desk to face her fully.

The chair she gripped with frightening force still stood between them.

'They make the Devore look like _house pets,'_ he said flippantly.

Her mouth tensed again, and her next words were clearly punctuated with immense effort. He'd struck a nerve.

'Your point?'

He backed off a little, and looked down to her. 'We all know how _that_ turned out.'

She seemed to grow an inch or two, and stood up impossibly straight. 'It worked. We got out of there, and I got _my_ crew home.'

Her words were harsh, and almost rehearsed. Like it was the mantra she told herself to fall asleep each night and absolve her guilt. She absolutely refused to acknowledge the personal inference hidden under his words.

His next words were whispered, a stark contrast to the anger fizzling between the two them. 'At what cost, Kathryn?'

Her shoulders slumped, and he could almost see the hostility leave her face. It was as if the fight had suddenly left her.

He tried his luck, and pushed further. 'That planet is at the outermost edges of Federation Space. There will be no backup, Kathryn, if those people don't accept your terms, and decide to bury you in that ice.'

He chose his words carefully, the tone underlying the seriousness of his concerns, and the surprise registered on her face. He guessed she'd never considered that one day she could end up with the same fate as her father.

Or that someday, someone would stand in her way as she tried so desperately to sacrifice herself.

'I don't think that's a possibility,' she said slowly. Her eyes were unfocused, like she was caught in a memory he had no right to bear witness to.

'We've planned this, they are expecting me to be there,' she said, her sentence growing stronger with each passing word. She blinked rapidly, clearing her thoughts away.

He wondered what it was that he'd said that had gotten her so rattled. The death of her father was something she had put behind her long ago. Or, so he thought.

Her words dawned on him, and the panic rose in his throat. ' _We've planned this?_ ' Chakotay echoed the words back at her. 'What does that mean?'

Janeway looked up to him sharply. 'It means nothing.'

He stared at her sharply, searching her face for the answers.

His tea sat long-cooled on the desk, and the chair she still gripped too tightly stood between them.

'It means something, Kathryn, or you wouldn't have said it,' he spoke clearly, challenging her to dispute him. He shuffled a bit closer, looking down into her face. 'Why are _you_ going down there, Kathryn?'

The words of the mission briefing ran before him, and that horrible, sinking feeling settled itself in his bones. It was like he was watching a train wreck; and nothing he was going to say in this moment could prevent the inevitable outcome.

This ice-planet had a strategic advantage to Starfleet and the Federation expanding its territory. The people were hostile, and unyielding. And, he had absolutely no idea why Starfleet thought it was a good idea to send an Admiral and her aid down to the planet _alone_.

Then, it dawned on him. ' _That_ was your price. The price for us to go free,' he breathed.

Chakotay knew without a doubt that Kathryn would most likely die down there. And, it was a cruel twist of irony that _Voyager_ and her new Captain would be the one to carry her old Captain to her death.

He steeled himself as her mouth moved to answer his question. He watched with fascination as the words came so slowly from practiced lips that sported the shade of lipstick that not so long ago had marked his skin.

'It's what I agreed to,' she simply, honestly.

He isn't sure what to say next.

She looks at him sharply, blue eyes giving him a steely glare as she all but dares him to question her, and give her another reason to shatter their shaky peace.

He can't even begin to pin point the moment she stopped loving him and started hating him.

He isn't sure he'll ever know.

'Those pips on your collar,' she said, flicking her eyes down to his neck. 'They're the reason I'm here.'

His hand drifted involuntarily over the four gold pins, watching Kathryn's eyes flicker with the same emotion he'd seen days earlier in the darkened guest quarters.

'They're yours,' he said quietly.

And suddenly it dawned on him why she had seemed so solemn. The same four studs that graced his burgundy turtleneck were the same ones she wore for seven years by his side.

'That was always the plan,' she spoke strongly.

He was suddenly angry. Angry at her for making another decision _for_ him. Angry with her for trying to plan everything so she always ended up on the wrong end of life, spiralling without any control toward something that she would most certainly never return from.

And, he was damned angry at her for leaving him to be the one to make the journey with her.

 _Without her._

The corners of his mouth twitched as he growled at her. 'The plan for you to die?'

He heard the fabric on the chair crunch as she angrily dug her nails into it again. Their new-found peace was shattering around him. 'For me to do what I'm told,' she ground out through clenched teeth.

Suddenly, his hand reached to the pips on his collar, ripping them off with more force than he intended. The four studs sat in his outstretched palm, tiny and glittering against the bronze of his hand. He thrust them toward her.

'Is that what this will cost? Your death?'

His words were sharp, and he inwardly smiled when she bristled. But, he couldn't stand the thought of another Admiral Janeway so willingly accepting her death.

'If that is the outcome.'

'That's unacceptable!' he exclaimed, backing off and turning around to head up toward the viewport.

She didn't move as he strode past her, and he strongly suspected she wasn't even going to turn around to face him.

'Is it, really?' she asked lightly. 'Or, is it just because you're angry with me?'

'You are damn right I'm angry with you, Kathryn,' he said in low tones.

She scoffed. 'That's completely irrelevant.'

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 'Now you sound like – '

'Your ex-girlfriend?' she cut him off.

His lips pursed shut, and he didn't comment.

She pushed further, taking advantage of him momentarily being on the back foot. 'This is non-negotiable, _Captain._ You will take myself and Commander Kennedy to the planet, and leave us to complete our mission.'

She turned around now, flicking the chair away from her with frightening force as she did so.

'And, you'll turn _Voyager_ around and head back to Earth. Is that clear?'

He nodded briskly, answering her with a tersely clipped _yes_ , neglecting any semblance of rank or respect, hoping to high hell that for once, she couldn't see through his bald-faced lie.

* * *

The familiar grey ceiling stared back down at her. She'd been staring at it for hours, almost days – she was sure. She wasn't even sure how much time had passed since she had beamed down to that planet.

Her memory was shattered, fragmented into pieces she barely had a hold on. Transporting off the pad, Chakotay's angry face boring into her own as she dematerialised with her aid.

She could still feel the sting of the wind and the ice as it whipped about her face. The burn of the frigid air was still on her skin, followed by the pain of something else entirely.

She didn't even remember Chakotay beaming down behind her, or the scream of her aid as she fell.

The new doctor had been in and out a few times to check on her, but she'd mostly ignored him, instead finding comfort in the dull grey orbiting above her. There was a time when she'd almost agreed to let Kes paint it after Neelix lost his lungs.

But, looking at it now, there was almost a solemn peace in the grey walls of _Voyager_.

She heard the doors to her left swish open, but she failed to lift her head to see who it was.

She _knew_ without a doubt who was there.

'I'm getting tired of seeing you in this room, Kathryn.'

His strong voice carried to her from the door of the sickbay, and she slowly looked up to see him striding toward her with purpose. His face wore the battle-hardened emotions of indifference; something they had both perfected over the years.

But, she could see past it, down to his very core where he was shaken and angry. She was expecting the _I told you so_ to come out of his mouth.

She huffed loudly, and tried to sit up straighter. 'You've hardly seen me in this room, Captain.'

He sat himself down next to her, and spoke to her with honestly. 'I can count the times on my hands.'

She swallowed the sarcastic response when she caught the serious look on his face, and decided not to push the matter further. A movement out of the corner of her eye confirmed that the new CMO of _Voyager_ had made himself rather scarce, and disappeared into the office that had once belonged to the EMH.

Kathryn felt a pang of sadness, and she found herself wishing rather strongly for the familiar face of the EMH. He had found himself existing in a lab somewhere in the Starfleet sciences building, as they decompiled his program and made changes to the current generation of EMH.

Her efforts to argue for his liberty with the mobile emitter had been in vain.

She flicked her eyes back to the man in front of her, and plastered a smile on her face. 'Well, I apologise for bleeding over your new ship, Captain.'

His eyes narrowed, and her flippant remark had failed to get a reaction.

'This new-found sense of sarcasm is most unbecoming on you,' he noted with arrogance. 'Something they teach you when you become an Admiral?'

She felt her face scowl at him, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes with irritation.

'I think you know when it started,' she said harshly.

He recoiled a little, and his shoulders shrugged ever so slightly.

She took advantage of his quick silence to press further. 'Something you want to say to me, _Captain_?' she snapped, emphasising his rank.

She folded her arms – as much as she was able - and eyed him impatiently.

Chakotay met her eyes, and Kathryn watched with fascination as the anger began to fade from his features. He drew a breath, and placed his hand on the bio-bed. For a moment, she thought he was going to touch her, and she tensed her muscles ready to pull away.

Only he didn't, and his hand rested quietly inches from her own.

Her own irritation began to ebb as she watched his internal struggle.

'When you were lying there,' he started slowly. She saw him swallow thickly, and his eyes darted away as he took a breath. 'I'm really glad you're okay, Kathryn.'

She offered a small smile, and her fingers twitched with the urge to touch his own, lying on the edge of the bio-bed near her side. The inch or so between them seemed impossibly large, and she wasn't sure she had it in herself to bridge that final gap.

She stared at the spot near his fingers, tracing the familiar blue and green patterned fabric with interest. She resisted the urge to squirm under his intense gaze.

Anger, sarcasm, those were things she could deal with, and hide behind. But this raw, emotional vulnerability was something she had yet to fully master herself, let alone in the presence of the man next to her.

His voice startled her.

'Have dinner with me,' he said seriously.

She shook her head slowly, watching him with saddened eyes. 'No.'

She realised with a suddenness that she wasn't ready to close that final gap. Not yet. Seven still swam in her thoughts, wrapped around the man before her and somehow, she knew that one day, they would have to have _that_ conversation.

He paused for a moment, and met her eyes with hardened emotion. 'You're ready to say goodbye to our friendship?'

She narrowed her eyes. 'There's that word again.'

He raised his eyebrow in question. His fingers twitched on the bed, and subconsciously she moved her own hand a little further away.

' _Goodbye_ ,' she uttered sarcastically. 'We seem to say it a lot.'

He leant in closer to her, his breath once again fanning over her face. 'It doesn't have to be that way. We were good friends, Kathryn.'

Her eyes closed, and she swallowed the rising feelings in her chest. Her heart started pounding painfully loudly, and she wondered if Chakotay could hear it.

She snorted sardonically. 'Is that what we were?'

His scent was over powering, and she could smell his familiar aftershave again. Only this time, the other scent that had clouded her the last time they were this close was gone.

That spark of hope began to flicker.

'We could have been more,' he spoke with an air of regret, watching her seriously. 'But, we were never, _ever_ just platonic friends, Kathryn.'

She flinched away, dragging her hand back away from his and placing it over her stomach protectively.

'No,' she said, a little too quickly. 'We weren't.'

She met his eyes squarely, watching him with intensity.

He pulled back, sensing her hostility. His hand moved away, leaving the spot near her side and he placed it gently next to hers where it rested on her stomach. His eyes never left her face.

Her fingers twitched, instinctively reaching out and grazing the edge of his knuckles. The pull toward him was undeniable, and she was finding herself powerless against it. His skin was cool under her too-warm hands, and her nails scratched the bronzed skin.

Her thoughts flicked immediately to another time, somewhere in a dark alley all those months ago when her fingers had wandered over the smooth skin of his lower back with an intensity she had not yet forgotten.

With an intensity that still haunted her dreams.

She closed her eyes. She could feel the words about to leave his tongue, and she spoke first, cutting him off before he could utter something too damaging.

'We made the right choice out there,' Kathryn stated firmly.

She felt, rather than saw his raised eyebrow at her revelation, but he didn't comment. Somehow, Kathryn suspected that once upon a time, he strongly would have disagreed with her statement.

He probably still did.

Her eyes flicked open and she drew a sharp breath when she realized how close his face was to hers again. Brown eyes bored into blue and she looked away, instead reaching forward and taking his hand fully to play lightly with his fingers.

It was the first time she had allowed herself to be so open with him, and she didn't realise how much she had missed his contact. That subtle strength he often provided to her just by his mere presence, and she had come to rely on it in the course of their journey.

Their last years on _Voyager_ together, she had studiously avoided touching him.

She wasn't sure she could have ever stopped.

She swallowed roughly, and looked at him with unguarded eyes.

'I know you don't agree with me, and you probably never will,' She felt herself take a breath. 'I couldn't order you to your death out there, Chakotay,' she whispered quietly. 'I still can't.'

He was silent for a moment, watching the way her fingers skimmed over his own larger ones with interest. The stark contrast between them was highlighted even now, and she realised with a pang that the strong sense of attraction she had once felt toward him had never really gone away.

'That's what scares you,' he stated simply.

Her eyes flicked up to his once more, and she searched his gaze openly. She prepared herself, chewing the inside of her lip as she opened her mouth and spoke the three most honest words she had ever let herself say.

'It still does.'

* * *

" _You've been scared of love, and what it did to you." – The Weeknd: 'I feel it Coming' [Playlist]._


End file.
